


A Risk

by BornDead



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Boys Being Boys, Feelings Realization, M/M, no gods no betas, summer nights and haunted houses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25614790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornDead/pseuds/BornDead
Summary: The night is young and so are they.
Relationships: Axel/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	A Risk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuinoaChaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinoaChaos/gifts).



> Happy birthday to my spouse and evil twin, Quinoa. I can’t begin to explain to you how thankful I am to have met you and gotten to know you. It’s weird to think of a time before you now, so it’s a good thing we are married now.

**Drawing is a gift from Death-Scout. Find him on Tumblr with that same name!**

* * *

Roxas is not afraid of taking risks. He’s the first to skate down the steepest hills, the first to drink bourbon, the first to steal a sign off of the highway. He has a way of looking at the world in a non-committal, arrogant sort-of way that drives Axel _insane_. In fact, it is Roxas’ I-Don’t-Give-A-Shit attitude that originally drew the two together in the first place. 

A few years ago during a particularly boring school lunch, some heated words between the two turned into flying fists. They both were sent home that day with black eyes, bloody lips, and a new best friend. If you’d ask either of them now though, they couldn’t tell you what the fight was even about. 

Sure, it isn’t a conventional origin story, but they aren’t concerned with blending in. It isn’t their style to go unnoticed. They wear ripped jeans and shirts with angry logos, clunky boots and studded belts. Girls watch them behind their oversized glasses and candy-pink gum bubbles.

The two friends are thrill seekers, always hunting for the next high. The more dangerous the stunt, the more idiotic the feat, the better. They need the rush, the blood pumping excitement that only immortal youth can provide. 

That’s how they find themselves on this midnight escapade tonight. 

RIght now they are high above Twilight Town, walking on the train tracks, arms outstretched, and laughing as the wind attempts to blow them over. The air whistles by in a high pitched scream, tangling their hair. They’re lucky that the moon is bright enough to illuminate their path in the darkness because their flashlights are terrible. They joke and sing as they carefully balance their way across. 

The tracks lead out over the river, forming a bridge. If a train comes they’ll have no choice but to jump or be hit, a calculated risk, to be sure, but they agreed it was worth the reward. Below them the water is bottomless and glossy black; the way it reflects the sky makes it look like they are walking in an infinite sea of stars.

Roxas leads them, as he always does, as Axel prefers. He’s bundled up completely in black tonight, rendering him nearly invisible save for the golden hair peeking out from around his cap. Roxas is singing loudly, off-key, and making sure to look over his shoulder to emphasize particularly vulgar lyrics in Axel’s direction. Axel sneers back, but the expression is without actual malice. This is how they like best to spend their time. 

Objectively speaking, they both agree that it’s pretty fucking stupid to be on train tracks at any point in time. It is _particularly_ idiotic to walk across them at night, blood buzzing with alcohol, and so high above the ground. But that is precisely the whole reason it is _fun,_ so they continue on their way across the bridge, paying not a worry to the thought of tram schedules or leaps into frigid water. They’re never going to die anyway. 

Axel adjusts the backpack on his shoulder and the beer cans inside make a dull tinny sound. “So where were _you_ last night?” 

They usually spend the weekends together, holed up in Axel’s shitty car smoking, or prowling the town looking for some new distraction. Yesterday, when Axel wandered up to their usual spot to meet up though, Roxas was notably absent.

Roxas turns around, grin stretched wide, and walks backwards over the tracks. Axel watches warily as his friend wobbles a bit, shoestrings snagging on a crack in the tracks for a moment, before he shimmies free. Leave it to Roxas to fucking trip off a bridge becuase he can’t keep his damn shoes tied. Axel suppresses a groan. 

“Oh, just out on a date with Olette,” Roxas tells Axel proudly. He finally bends down to tie his shoes before Axel has to scold him, and then he springs up with a _ta-da_. 

Axel raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Oh?”

Roxas laughs again, the sound echoing around them. Against the dark sky, with his dark clothes, it’s hard for Axel to see where he ends and the night begins. It is only the extinguishing of the flare of stars behind Roxas that mark where he sweeps his arms wide.

“Yep,” Roxas says. He straightens his hat and rubs at his nose smugly. 

“Really?” Axel replies flatly. 

Roxas, while quite popular in their town, has had very little interest in dating so far. Despite the multitudes of girls (and a select few boys) who confess their undying devotion to the little shit, Roxas never actually takes any of them up on it, at least as far as Axel is aware. Roxas is always too busy planning their next adventure, breaking rules, or sleeping. Axel figures Roxas would tell him, anyway, if he had been dating. They’re best friends, after all.

So, to Axel, Roxas’ claims of an evening spent with their classmate seems unlikely. Surely he would have mentioned it before now. They don’t keep secrets from one another, there isn’t a need. Neither could do something so bad that the other wouldn’t accept it. They are kindred spirits, two halves of of a rotten whole. 

A little pulse of anger startles Axel then. It takes him a moment to recognize it, but when he does he furrows his brows, confused. 

Roxas glares at Axel before swerving back around clumsily. “Yeah, it was fun.”

_Fun?_ Axel wonders what his friend is talking about. A darker feeling, something maybe like jealousy or annoyance, stirs within him. He isn’t sure why. 

“What’d you do?” Axel doesn’t think he needs to specify what he’s actually asking for here. He doesn’t care about where they went or what they did— he wants to know _what they did._ He hopes his voice doesn’t sound too curious, because he’s _not_ that curious, really. It just seems weird that he wouldn’t know. And he can’t let _Roxas_ get laid before _he does_.

Roxas reaches the end of the bridge and hops off the tracks onto the hillside. He waits in the brush for Axel to jump off before the two push their way through the undergrowth together. Branches snap underfoot and tug at their jeans as they trudge on.

“Just... make out, and stuff, I guess,” Roxas says, bounding ahead. He doesn’t want to miss this opportunity to prove his virility to Axel. “Nothing too mind-blowing-- though she _did_ say that it was the best kiss she’s ever had.” The blond flexes an arm and laughs, kicking a rock out of his way. It skitters across the ground, sending crickets and other bugs careening this way and that. 

As they walk on, Axel pictures Roxas and Olette together and the image just doesn’t seem right. Something about the whole situation bothers him. Axel doesn’t want to think about what the white hot anger that flares deep inside of him when he thinks about them kissing means either. 

Axel pauses, crossing his arms. “Bullshit.”

Roxas looks over his shoulder and shrugs. “Hey, don’t get jealous. I can’t help that I’m better than you at _everything_.”

Axel rolls his eyes. “Sure thing.” 

No, there is no way Roxas isn’t just talking out his ass. 

“What? You don’t believe me?” Roxas says, blinking at his friend, irritated. 

Axel pushes past him, shaking his head, and laughs. “Ain’t no way, little Roxy over here has got any game.” With his longer legs, Axel quickly is disappearing down the trail. 

Roxas seethes quietly and stomps after his friend. Axel never lets him win at anything. It’s a sore spot between them, not that Roxas would ever acknowledge it out loud. 

The overgrown hill tapers into a field of tall grass, the blades a silvery wave in the night. Just ahead in the field is their destination, an old brick building, decades in disrepair. The sight of the building silences whatever rant Roxas plans. He jogs up to the building, parting the overgrown grass as he runs, taking in the crumbling facade, the tangle of ivy hanging off in sinewy arcs. 

He tries the front door but it won’t budge. Rusted locks and chains bar their path, and neither thought they’d need to bring _power_ _tools_. They won’t be getting in this way. 

There has to be a way inside though, otherwise they’d have never even heard of this place. Everyone else has been able to get inside after all. 

Roxas jumps down from the stairs and trails his fingers across the brick, searching for another entrance. He scans the wall and lets out an excited cry. 

“Hell yeah,” Roxas yells, hoisting himself up to climb through a broken window. The glass is long gone, and in its place more plants scramble for purchase against the sill. He swings his legs through the opening and lands quietly inside. Roxas is stealthy in a way no 17-year-old has a right to be. 

Roxas turns on his flashlight and scans the immediate area.The floor is covered in dirt, dust, and abandoned beer bottles. The wallpaper here is curling, ruined by years of wet weather. The once grand designs look more a sickly yellow than ochre. Here and there bright sprays of graffiti break up the patterns with curses, declarations of love, and crude drawings. 

Axel jumps in next, landing with a crunch when his boots slide over some old glass. 

They share a few moments of quiet wonderment before they begin the walk through the abandoned building’s halls. Each place they look is littered with remnants of lives long come and gone. 

“Kinda spooky,” Axel says, touching a hand to the old walls. 

Roxas positions the flashlight under his chin and makes a face. “Are you _scared?”_

Axel swats the flashlight away and scoffs, moving further down the hall. There are old letters strewn across the floor, handwriting obscured and smeared. Inside each of the identical rooms they pass, old bed springs of moth-eaten mattresses stare back.

“What was this place again?” the redhead asks.

Roxas shrugs. “Hospital or something, I dunno. I think what we’re here for is up ahead.” 

Axel watches as the blond doubles down the hallway, backpack and skateboard bouncing against his back as he moves. Their shadows dance across the walls like blurry smears of ink.

The hallway empties into a large domed room, something like an atrium, with a deep concrete pit where a swimming pool must have once been. The stars are bright enough here that they turn off their flashlights. As they peer up through the panels of glass, they marvel at the fact that they remain intact. For a moment, both are stunned into silence at the grandeur of it all. What a place this must have been in its prime. 

The reverie doesn’t last long though, because Roxas throws his bag down and unlatches the clips securing his skateboard. He tosses the board down ahead of him and jumps on immediately. He skates to the edge of the pool and studies the bend of the sides. It’s not a perfect bowl, but it's definitely closer than anything else their shitty town has to offer. His heart thumps in excitement. 

With a shout, Roxas dips into the pool and his wheels hum against the stone. Axel walks up to the edge and throws his spindly legs over to watch his friend tear by. The sound ricochets throughout the room.

They’ve been planning on making a trip out here since the first time some upperclassmen mentioned it. Axel wanted to go because he’s always trying to find new ways to scare himself, and a haunted building in the middle of nowhere seemed like a good spot. Roxas wanted to go because the thought of any new skating spot is enough to make him salivate. 

Axel pulls a beer can out of his bag and pops the tab and he watches his friend roll by. The liquid foams from the perilous journey but the two boys aren’t even old enough to drink yet, so they don’t realize how terrible the beer is or how much worse it is when it’s foamed to hell. 

Roxas has enough momentum that he’s able to sail up the side of the bowl and rise into the air like some kind of strange bird. He flips the board with his toes, deck spinning, before landing firmly back on the concrete sides and gliding past Axel. 

Axel watches the way his friend rises and falls, back and forth, the way his muscles contract and the way he yells out excitedly with each new landed trick. Axel has never been coordinated enough for things like skateboarding. His talent lies in more artistic pursuits like tagging buildings or setting things on fire.

“I should bring Olette here next time,” Roxas says, speeding by, blue eyes focused on the path ahead of him. “Might be fun.” The way he emphasizes the word implies a little more than fun. He crouches low, fingers skimming the concrete. 

Axel scoffs and the sound is loud enough for Roxas to hear. 

Wheels slow to a stop in the middle of the pool in response to the sound and Roxas looks up at Axel. 

“What’s that for?” Roxas shouts, scowling. This is so typical of Axel, always shitting on him, playing off his successes as flukes or ‘beginners luck’. Such a _prick_. 

Axel slams the rest of his drink and tosses the can behind him. Not like anyone else has ever cleaned up after themselves here before, he figures. No sense in starting now. He reaches for another drink. 

“I just think you’re gettin’ a little ahead of yourself there, kid.” 

Roxas _hates_ this patronizing tone. Fists ball at his side and he stomps on the edge of his board to send it flying up. He snatches it out of the air and stalks toward the edge of the pool.

“Come _again_?” he shoots up.

The redhead can’t help but laugh at the cherubic face, all golden curls and flushed cheeks, when he hears the acidity of the question. It can be so easy to ruffle Roxas’ feathers sometimes. Sometimes it is so easy that it isn’t even _fun_.

“You heard me, shit head,” Axel mocks.

Roxas tosses his board up at Axel, who has to dodge it to avoid getting smacked in the face. It takes a little bit of a running start, but then Roxas follows up after it, hands gripping the edge of the concrete to lever himself up and over all the way.

Axel smacks the back of Roxas’ head when he gets situated and in return Axel is punched in the arm.

“You think you’re hot shit now?” the taller one cackles, hands waving out wildly to deflect the series of slaps coming at him from his companion.

“What the fuck man? Why are you such a dick?”

“We both know you don’t have game. Put up or shut up, Casanova,” Axel jeers, flipping Roxas off.

Roxas’ face is a mask of indignant fury and frustration. He blows air out of his cheeks, fuming, and attempts another torso punch, which Axel easily deflects. 

“Fine!” Roxas says then, gripping Axel’s shirt collar. Fingers bunch up the silky fabric. “Alright fine! Fuck it. Want me to put up? Let's do this.” 

It’s a risky move, but Roxas calls his friend’s bluff. This’ll get Axel to fuck off.

Axel’s green eyes widen, searching Roxas’ face wildly for a moment before settling back into their normal, slightly bored, expression. A smug smile spreads across his face and he leans back onto his palms, relaxed, and shrugs. 

“Sure, fine,” Axel dares. 

Roxas hesitates, a little surprised that their game of chicken isn’t over. He’s not going to back down _now_ though. It’s just a fucking _kiss_ . It’s not like it _matters_ . And anyway, it's _Axel_ , his best friend. They’ve shared colds, sweatshirts, test answers-- a stupid kiss isn’t that much different. People kiss each other all the time and it doesn’t mean anything. If it’ll get Axel off Roxas’ back, it’ll be worth it.

“What’s with the face?” Axel laughs, head tipping back jovially. “It’s only weird if you’re going to make it weird, dude,” he scoffs. 

Roxas rolls his eyes and stits up a little straighter. “Alright then, fine.” The blond shrugs and leans into the taller boy, traces a rough hand along Axel’s jaw. Half-lidded sapphire eyes inch closer but Axel can’t keep his own open long enough to truly take them in. 

_Holy shit_ , he's really going to do it, isn’t he? 

Axel jerks backward, but then a warm hand clamps down around his neck and halts his retreat. Roxas is close enough to see the flecks of gold in Axel’s eyelashes, the spray of pale freckles dusting his cheeks. Has Axel always smelled like pine trees?

Axel hasn’t ever noticed how nice Roxas’ skin is. It's frustratingly unblemished for a person their age, a pleasant tanned color from days spent outside skating, and dangerously close to his own right now. To brush him aside now would be cowardly though. Roxas would _never_ let him live it down if he dipped out, so he figures he’ll let whatever happens happen. 

Their breath mingles between them, sour with cheap beer. Everything happens so slowly that both are surprised when their mouths actually touch. Axel’s mind goes blank, unable to process the fact that Roxas is actually kissing him. He’s pretty surprised how soft his friend’s lips are. They always looked a little chapped to Axel, but then again, it’s not like he’s really paid much attention to them. 

Roxas shifts, pulling Axel closer, arms draping around his neck in one languid motion. When Roxas peeks an eye open, just enough to see through the tangle of his own lashes, to check to make sure that Axel’s eyes are closed, he’s surprised to see the way the corners of Axel’s crinkle in a smile. He feels Axel’s hands grip the hair at the nape of his neck, fingers twining through the wild wave, knocking his hat to the ground.

It’s all too much all of a sudden. 

“There,” Roxas gasps, pulling back. His lips are wet, the blushing pink color of rose petals, and Axel can’t seem to look away now that he knows what they feel like. “So?”

“What?” Axel almost misses the question. He’s actually losing his _mind_ trying to process what just happened. Strangely, his heart is pounding and his palms feel just a little sweaty. He’s never gotten jittery like this with other people. 

“I’m not a bad kisser,” Roxas shouts. The color rises on his cheeks and he snatches his hat from the floor where Axel knocked it off.

“I dunno,” Axel says baiting his friend, toeing the line between too far and just barely enough. “Sure, it was fine, but _best kiss ever_? Poor Olette...” Axel sighs wistfully, eyes downcast to look down into the grey pool. 

_“Seriously?”_ Roxas’ face pinches into an angry expression. He really had given it his all. What kind of freaks has Axel been kissing that that wasn’t up to snuff?

They’ve never really talked about dating before. It kind of bothers Roxas that he has no idea who Axel has been kissing. They’re best friends, they’re supposed to know everything about each other, so why doesn’t he know if Axel has a girlfriend?

“Maybe… you should try again?” Axels wonders out loud, finger stroking his chin. “I’ll give you another chance if you want one.”

A dangerous proposition, if you ask Roxas, but he’s not scared of Axel. They’re friends, after all, and if you can’t practice kissing with your friends then where else are you supposed to do it? 

He seizes the moment, shoves the taller boy to the ground and tries a different tactic. This kiss is tougher, messier, and leaves them both gasping. Roxas dares to bite at Axel’s lip, tugging it lightly, before letting it drop. 

Their eyes find each other in the darkness, each experiencing a strange and new emotion simmering beneath the surface. A certain weightlessness buoys in their chests. It’s all very dangerous, this unknown feeling swelling within them. Something akin to adrenaline and sweeter than landing any high score leaves them shaking.

They’ve shared looks and lockers, cigarettes and kisses. How much worse could _feelings_ be, if it came to that? After all, what’s life without a little risk? 

The night is still young and so are they. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So it doesn’t have a plot but what adolescence actually does? It’s all just a blur of random dumb things that shape your life forever. NBD.


End file.
